The Curiosity Shop
by WikketKrikket
Summary: Oneshot, AU, TamakiHaruhi, Kaoru's POV A small square in Venice, and even the house isn't particularly large. But in that house is a shop that seems to sell magic; the Curiosity Shop. A retrospective look at its story, and the ones that created it.


-1A/N: This is… finally finished. That's really all I can say about it. XD I quite like this one, I like writing this kind of setting. I have to warn you though, the ending was kind of rushed and it's _really _hard to try and write someone in character while being in a somewhat old-y style. O.o;; And it's kinda long (as all my one-shots are. I really ought to split them into chapters…) Ah well, it was fun! Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran. Obviously.

The Curiosity Shop

It seems to me, looking back from all these years on, that every time our lives changed- for better or worse- it was accompanied by an arrival. There were a lot of little ones through the course of our early lives, but they were accompanied with proportionally small changes. To my mind, the first major arrival, and the first major change, happened in our nineteenth year, when the two of us were living in Venice. Not the long romantic canal-ways and opulent houses that authors love so much, the slum end, where the waters stank to high heaven in the spring and by summer would suffocate anyone who stayed outside for too long.

We hadn't always been in such a situation, of course. Almost as soon as we could walk unaided, my brother and I had found work in the richest, grandest houses for the highest levels of society, on the surface of it as servants, but in reality another novelty for them to possess. The identical boys, the twins, such a rarity. We didn't mind, as such, it meant we got to work together and the need to be seen around so our employers could be envied meant that we got out of most of the nastier, messier work; the work that was always out of sight. Our jobs only lasted as long as we remained an amusement, and that was never long, but there was always someone eager to snap us up.

Or, at least, there always had been. We had been employed by a family a few years previously, in the capital; but they had moved here on a whim for melodrama and the need for a suitable backdrop. The mystery of Venice stopped alluring them within a few months, however, and not long after, so did we- and we had not found any long-term employment since. In the last few months, there had been none at all, and we had been living a hand-to-mouth existence. I couldn't say why, though; perhaps there was some economic crisis that made luxury goods, as we more or less were, too dear; but more likely it was because the further we fell into poverty the further we fell from the world that we had always clung too. Everyone looks the same under a layer of dirt.

It was the summer when Hikaru fell ill, one of the hottest summers anyone could remember, and the filthy water was as putrid as usual. We had just taken up new lodgings, even cheaper ones, so close to the edge of the canal that we could only open the door when we had moved everything that might get damaged by surplus river water aside. We had been without work for eleven weeks, and even food was too costly, let alone rent. The rooms of this place were filthy and dilapidated, and each one occupied by souls as poorly off as ourselves. It might have been the filth, or even carried by the other occupants, but I'm sure Hikaru's sickness came from the water. Drinking straight from the canal was the only option to us, in that place, far from any of the marginally cleaner wells, and even I suffered as a result all manner of upsets. The difference was, I recovered, whereas my brother seemed to go from one malady to the other. I worried, but he did not; and then, at last, when a fever truly set in, he was in no state to even think about such things.

When he was conscious, he was delusional and raving; most of the time he was sunk in a sleep that had him writhing in terror or pain. Though I did the best I could, I was really at a bit of a loss. Hikaru had always been the leader, who had the ideas and made the decisions; he was the stronger of us in everything except, it seemed, the stomach. When a fortnight saw no improvement, and nothing but deterioration, I knew the efforts I was making were not enough. His skin was sallow and sagging from the rapid loss of weight, and his eyes had not opened even in a dream for five days. I was desperate, but could think of nothing to do except to drag him from his sick bed- which was more a pile of rags on the floor- and try to take him to the well. The water would hardly be the glass-like clarity enjoyed at the high tables of Rome, but I didn't want that. Just being able to make out the bottom of the beaker would be an un-hoped for miracle. I had always been the most optimistic of us, and dared to hope a miracle would happen, and the water from the well would be pure- far purer, even, then I remembered. So I carried my brother through the streets, and reassured him of this, so that I would not be able to think about how light a burden he was.

Like an oasis in the desert, we reached the well just as the sun was highest in the sky. The square wasn't as busy as it would be at other times, when the stench that lingered in the very air here would be more bearable; and we had the well almost to ourselves. I filled a cup, and endeavoured to pour it into my brother. I did not dare look into the cup to see how clear it was.

This was not an easy task. The water splashed over his face and down his shirt, and sent him mumbling and twitching. With only one free hand, I could not keep his head still enough to get him to drink. I must admit, I think that was the point where the very last dregs of my optimism drained dry and gave way to despair. And, like all good miracles, that happened to be the moment when he arrived.

I didn't see it at the time, but I can picture the moment when he strolled into the square below the noonday sun, and looked around, and spotted us. I'm sure, if anyone had looked, they would have seen a million emotions flash through his eyes; but, for me, the first thing I saw was his hands as he came and held Hikaru still. Desperation had blunted my manners, and I did not look up to question the identity of my helper until I was sure Hikaru had drank to capacity. But I looked up in the end, and just like that, Tamaki Suoh had arrived.

"Thanks." I said, and stood, pulling Hikaru up too. It didn't pay to be too grateful in this city. Gratitude translated into payment, and I had nothing to give.

"Wait!" He demanded, though he made no move to follow me. Too late. "A proposition for you…" He was a French man, I noticed.

"Not interested." I replied. I had determined my future in that moment of despair beside the well. I would live as long as I could keep Hikaru alive, and after that, it wouldn't matter. If I went to do proper work, that time could be a lot sooner then I had hoped.

"Please." He said, softly. "Listen, this is the deal. Clean lodgings for your brother- and clean water. And, and, I have a friend- a doctor- who's coming to join me in less than a month. And food, and a bed."

I stopped. What else could I do?

"You…" I trailed off. I did not ask the catch. I almost didn't care what the price was.

"In return," he said, standing, smiling. "I merely ask, when your brother is recovered, help in a little business venture of mine…"

I think, at that point, I would have agreed even had he had fangs and a legion of demons baying for twin blood behind him, things seemed so bleak. As it was, he had neither of these things, and though at the time I didn't know if he wanted something from us or if he had been moved through genuine compassion, looking at what happened later, I think it was the latter. Perhaps he had heard of us, and wanted the novelty himself, and simply used the opportunity, but I don't think so. I'm sure that he had come to Venice to seek his fortune; and that, to him, there was no better fate than one which he could share with others.

At the time, however, I heard only the prospect of clean water- something I could never provide- and food, and beds, and even a doctor. I shook his hand, reassuring myself that, like every other job, this would not last long.

I was wrong, of course. Something began that day as he and I carried my brother over bridges and walkways, and he introduced himself, and tried to convince me of the wisdom of his scheme.

"We offer a service," he said, brightly. "Because people are always looking for parties but there cannot be one _every _night. So we offer an environment with good food and good company, and charge for it's usage."

I didn't follow his flowery language. "What are you saying? Are we to be prostitutes now?"

"No, no, _no_!" He sounded entirely appalled. "We merely prepare and serve food, and then perhaps _talk_ with our guests!"

"But, who would pay for a meal when they could eat at home, prepared by their own cook?" I shook my head, it seemed a ridiculous notion to me. "And, who among those who would be able to pay us would want to talk to the servants?"

"We would not be servants! We would be both waiters and hosts!" Tamaki grinned broadly at me over Hikaru's head, and I realised then that he was undoubtedly a fool. "It is beauty and mystery that will be our selling point!"

I snorted. "On that count, you have made a mistake. My brother and I are neither beautiful nor mysterious."

He shook his head with a sigh, blond hair swishing as he did so. "That is where _you _have made a mistake, my dear doppelganger!" He assured me. "But let us talk business later. We're here."

'Here' was at the bottom of a set of steps, leading up to an old, slightly rickety looking house on the edge of a square that just fell into the category of 'rich'. To me, however, it could have been a palace; a utopia that I had not seen the like of for some time. Having made sure I was supporting my brother well enough alone, Tamaki let go and bounded up the steps two at a time, hammering on the door.

"Hani! Mori!" He bellowed. "Open up!"

A moment later, and there was the scraping of a bolt, followed by the door being wrenched back. In the relative darkness of the house's interior, at first I could make out nothing more then a shadow, the silhouette of what I took to be a child. This was an impression soon to be shot down.

Tamaki went in, then gestured enthusiastically for me to follow. It took me slightly longer, trying to take care not to jar my brother too much, but in the end we reached the hall and the door was shut behind us. I would never bother to return to that house right on the edge of the canal; but at the time I was still convinced that this was temporary. More then anything else, more then the large rooms or the swirling archways, or the dust tumbling in and out of the daylight that spilt in from various windows, I was looking at the people in front of me- mostly trying to decide if one was abnormally tall or the other unusually short, or some combination of both. The former, black haired and blank in expression, built as sturdy as a wall; the other small and blond and perhaps a sixth of his size. The giant and the dwarf.

They, it should be said, were also occupied in staring at myself and my duplicate. That amused me slightly. If they thought the resemblance was striking now, they would not believe it when Hikaru was healthy again.

Tamaki attempted to introduce us. "Hani, Mori, this is Kaoru and his brother, Hikaru…" He trailed off, seeing we weren't really listening, but, never one to be put off, grinned again. "That's right, stare! Stare to your heart's content, gentleman! It's our stare-ability and novelty that will bring us patrons and fortune!"

The shorter one, Hani, looked over at Tamaki. "Oh?" He said, and even his voice sounded childish. Somehow, though, I knew he wasn't. Something in the way he held himself- you just knew he was no child, in years or experience. "Are they going to stay with us?"

"Yes! We will get Hikaru well and then they are going to be waiters when we open the Curiosity Shop!"

"The what?" I asked.

"Ah, that's what we decided to call it!" Tamaki informed me. "These two came all the way from France with me, as my guards."

"Guards?" I repeated, doubtfully. "Even the small one?"

Tamaki smirked, then, and nodded firmly. "_Especially _the small one."

"…Where are the rooms?" I asked, sickened. I could see what was happening here. He was building a freak show. Well, I didn't mind compromising my dignity for a while if it got Hikaru better. Once the debt was repaid, we would leave. That was what I decided at the time, but, with the blind ignorance of youth, I had no idea what it would lead to.

"Oh, of course!" He exclaimed, and, asking Mori to bring water, he took us to an empty room; where, for the first time since our last servant job, we had proper beds. They were not stuffed with feathers nor covered with silk sheets, they were just straw and woollen blankets, but when I lay Hikaru down on one, I had never felt such relief. From the moment I met him, something inside me had known we could trust Tamaki; and despite what was to come, I always would. Perhaps it was foolish of me, but at that time, I thought of nothing except the chance to save my brother.

One thing I was right about, though, was the water. It was dirty even now, but not so deadly as it had been; and the clean rooms and the chance at clean linen and sheets showed a marked improvement within a week. It wasn't much, but it was enough to inspire a little hope in me again, and he did not need such constant attention that I neglected myself. His condition changed very little in the days and weeks following, but at least he did not get worse. In the meantime, we were trying to prepare for our 'grand opening', cleaning the house after years of disuse. Damp was the biggest problem, as you might expect in a city of water, and I was engaged in scrubbing a wall in one of the upstairs room with Mori when I saw the next arrival approach. He stepped off the gondola onto the jetty at the back of the houses, pausing to get his bearings, and then, paying the man, strode towards the square. He was tall too, at least matching Tamaki in height, but that was where any similarity ended. His stride was purposeful rather then Tamaki's amble, his hair was dark as pitch, and while he was not scowling he did not smile either. People came and went a hundred times a day on every platform in Venice, but somehow, I knew this was the man we had been waiting on, the doctor.

"…Tamaki!" I called out the window, laying down the brush I had been using. "I think our visitor is on his way!" I looked down below me, to where Tamaki and Hani had been busy replacing the rotting wood above the door, and heard his voice float back.

"Eh? Really?"

"A boat just arrived at the jetty- a tall man, dark hair."

"I think you might be right, Kaoru! Wonderful!" He nodded at Hani, and lowered the plank they were holding, leaning it against a wall, before dashing inside. This seemed strange behaviour to me when visitors tended to appear from the outside, but I was beginning to get used to Tamaki's quirks. Gesturing to Mori- there was little point in speaking as he seemed to be all but mute- I lead the way downstairs and we assembled in the hall. My thoughts were not with me, dashing about between Hikaru, still feverish, in the driest room upstairs; and this man, the one Tamaki had promised, now crossing the square.

Finally, the knock at the door came, and Tamaki hurried to open it. The door creaked, and, just like that, Kyouya Ootori had arrived. He, too, was a precursor to change; but I didn't know it at the time, because Tamaki immediately began jabbering away in French. This didn't usually present much of a problem, as the only time he seemed to revert to his native tongue was when he was cursing; and that is the same in any language. Now, however, he seemed to be fully conversing, until the stranger held up a hand to stem the flow and remarked:

"Tamaki, I speak perfectly fluent Italian. Let's not be rude to our current company."

I felt a little embarrassed then, the only one in the room who did not speak French. I could have comforted myself with the fact I was also the only one who was not a French native, but the man in front of me was quite clearly a Spaniard. The precise details of how he had met and come to work with Tamaki were never fully unveiled to me. I get the feeling Italy was not Tamaki's first port of call after France, or else Kyouya had spent some time in the latter when fleeing troubles of his own. Either way, that was not my priority at the time. I had almost gotten used to sharing this house with these people, and perhaps, now our darkest hour of despair was past, I would not be content to follow my brother should he die; an event looking less likely now. Even so, I hovered anxiously as Tamaki made the introductions and all the other talk necessary on being reunited with a friend after a year. Kyouya, however, quickly proved himself to be more shrewd then the fool next to him, and once again, held up a hand to stop the gabbling.

"Shh, Tamaki, I'm not interested in shops of any description for the moment; though I'd rather like to know why this person is jiggling about so much."

I did not believe I had been 'jiggling', but I did not protest when it served to remind Tamaki of what he had promised.

"Ah! Well, Kaoru's brother, Hikaru, he's been very ill- he still is… Kaoru joined us on their behalf, should Hikaru recover. I…" He seemed almost sheepish. "I told him you could help."

Kyouya sighed, then shrugged. "Hmmph. It seems it begins already- but I told you, Tamaki, that I would help you get this ludicrous notion off the ground and that is what I shall do, even if you have chosen to hire half-dead men." He turned to me. "Well, I see little point in hanging around for tea and small talk. Take me to your brother, before you spontaneously combust."

In the years before and since, I have never placed much stock in doctors; but Kyouya Ootori was the exception. He was like no other physician I had ever come across, and I'm certain even now that despite what he may have learned he never practised medicine. He seemed to me to be more a scientist, within just an hour of his arrival.

We had arrived in the bed chamber, that was dark and smelt of sweat, and the first thing he did was open the shutters; to see what he was doing perhaps, but he instructed us not to close them again unless it was particularly wet or cold. It was only then he went to look at Hikaru, and in order to do so, he pulled from his pocket a pair of spectacles.

I think it was those more then anything that told me of his character. They were large and old, the glass in them scratched almost into oblivion, presumably worn only when strictly necessary to save them a little. That explained the impression I had gained as we had moved from the house, when he had peered intently at things or felt them with his fingers. I had been wondering if he was totally blind, but now I got a clearer impression:

Not blind, an accumulator.

It occurred to me then that my hypothesis had proven correct, that I was living in a freak show of a giant, a dwarf, a fool and a miser. At that moment, all I felt was relief. This man was careful, responsible, to the nth degree; and that was what I wanted.

Plus, I got the distinct impression he would be managing the household's money more carefully, something I had wondered about with Tamaki, who seemed to spend with reckless abandon.

When he first saw my brother, like all people, the first thing he noticed was how the face in the bed was also the face looking on; but it didn't seem to bother him any more than it bothered us. He merely smirked, noted this was probably why Tamaki had chosen us, and pulled back the bedclothes without ceremony to listen for a heartbeat.

Kyouya Ootori was not a normal doctor. He said in no uncertain terms that as long as we followed his specifications Hikaru, and the rest of us, would be a lot healthier as a result. He ordered a different diet for my brother, but beyond that, this doctor did not treat the patient with medicines and potions and cakes. He treated his patients by treating the house.

This seemed a strange concept to me, and though I had lived in my share of luxury, I still felt this one ranked fairly highly. True, there was damp or rot in some of the rooms, and it was rather dark and penned in on all sides, but it was large and mostly dry, it even had a small courtyard that contained our well. The house came with its own well, a luxury indeed. But that was not good enough for Kyouya. He said even our water was filthy and came out with a hypothesis to clean it.

It was a strange idea, but he ordered several fine metal grilles and had them bolted over the well, insisting it be done at right angles, until the whole thing formed what seemed to be a solid heavy cover. We thought he was mad. A mad scientist. We did not know how the rain could possibly get in. We should have trusted him, because this 'filter' of his, and the other he had placed over the top of the bucket we used to draw water amazed us. The water poured out clear.

Hikaru showed a marked improvement within a week of the instillation of the filters. He slept more easily, and Kyouya told me that unless something went dreadfully wrong- as things often did, he cautioned- Hikaru would survive.

In the meantime, there was further work to be done. Damp walls to be cleaned, rotting wood to be removed, and walls to be painted white. According to Kyouya, it would make the place lighter, and it did. He also had shutters installed in the roof, operated by a long rope that hung down the middle of the staircase. Again, we were sceptical, but he insisted, and when he opened them for the first time and daylight streamed in, shining on the whitewashed walls and reflecting from carefully placed mirrors, the room was thrown into sharp relief and the entire house was warmed through.

But, more important to me, Hikaru got well.

When Kyouya had _at last _deemed the house 'habitable' and mumbled darkly to himself in Spanish, Tamaki had seemed to draw on his endless recesses of energy and enthusiasm that should have been exhausted long ago and fell to his task with excitement. We followed in his wake, decorating and preparing the house for it's opening, though Tamaki swore we would not until Hikaru was recovered.

As it was, we were out in the yard, beating dust out of some drapes that were to be hung in what Tamaki affectionately called 'The Salon'. I was removing some of the clean ones to store temporarily in one of the empty rooms upstairs, and checked my brother on the way back.

While I was there, Hikaru opened his eyes, and saw me, and recognised me.

He had been ill for ten weeks. The next day, the long fever broke, and he settled into a restoring sleep that I hadn't dared hope for.

I wept.

The next two and a half weeks saw both the house and Hikaru rapidly improve. He was somewhat surprised to hear of our new employment, but accepted it, though he didn't really know what to make of Tamaki in particular and was suspicious to begin with. As his strength returned, he was able to come and join us at meals and see around the house, and I think it was more curiosity and obligation that won him over to the scheme to begin with. Yet, what better way, as we were to run a Curiosity Shop?

I'll confess, even in the final days in the build up to our grand opening, I was not convinced it would catch on. I still couldn't understand why people would come to eat food and pay for it when they could do the same in their own homes, nor why our mysterious allure and spectacle, our company, would make it viable. Still, Tamaki was convinced, and Kyouya practical, and it was hard not be believe in those days before the magic could fade that this could be done. And, indeed, it was soon to be proved it _could _be done. But first, with the house finally ready, Tamaki found other things in need of improvement.

"Clothes!" He declared. "We must have something smart to wear!"

"Clothes, Tamaki," Kyouya immediately put in. "Cost a lot of money."

"We only need one set!" Tamaki insisted. "We would wear them only while with customers to save them; but impression is everything!"

Kyouya sighed, a sign he was giving in, and Tamaki leapt on the opportunity.

"And new spectacles for you, my friend! Ones you could actually see through!" He grinned. "Proper clothes, some that will actually fit Hani and be large enough for Mori! And we would get soap, real, proper soap, because these two are in _sore _need of a bath!" At this, he gestured at Hikaru and I.

"What?" We asked together, insulted.

"Frankly, you two stink worse than the canals out there." Tamaki shrugged apologetically, and turned to address me directly. "Hikaru had a fever for two months. You, on the other hand, have no excuse!" Despite the insult, he laughed merrily. "Come to that, we could all do with a wash! And so we shall!"

He won us over, of course, because there was no arguing with him. Kyouya set Hani and Mori to the task of drawing water, and lots of it because there was yet cleaning to be done; while the rest of us went shopping. He was there to make sure Tamaki economised properly, and we were to come because we had once worked as tailors, during a brief stint in Rome. We had been quite good at it to, I would venture to say. Also, in what almost seemed another life, before the Shop and before the slum, we had spent a long time in some of the finest houses in Italy. We knew fine clothes, and how to look after them. Tamaki was to come shopping as well, because he would not be left behind.

The shopping took several long hours in the air that was even now clammy and clinging and damp; I had not and never would grow used to the climate. By now, at least, the days were cooling and the city not so humid nor so stifling. Soon, the summer's travellers and tourists would have all gone and only those who intended to stay till spring would remain. That was a long time to stay in this city, where the population was ever shifting, people leaving or arriving everyday, floating away down the canals. Within a few more weeks the shallower canals would be closed off with ice, and Tamaki wished us to make our name before that, and so felt it a matter of urgency that we prepare ourselves. That day we procured an order for handsome black suits, white shirts, and cravats in all colours; deep green for Hikaru and I, dark blue for Mori, for Kyouya, black, and Hani yellow. Tamaki chose red for himself, and all had to admit that he had good aesthetic sense; even if, as Kyouya pointed out, he had no sense of any other kind as he returned to the shop to buy the necessary starch that nobody had thought to buy.

The suits were the main things, but there were other items to procure as well; and we stopped at a pharmacist where Tamaki, as promised, brought the most expensive soap he could. Then there were the promised spectacles for Kyouya, which he seemed to take great pleasure in buying. Kyouya grumbled that it was unnecessary expense, but when he put them on and could read things that were further away than the end of his nose I think he was somewhat pleased. The old scratched and broken pair were to be properly discarded. Hikaru threw them into the nearest canal. Then there were smaller, trivial things that high society- and Tamaki- deem absolutely essential, handkerchiefs and gloves, cufflinks and so on. Thankfully, with Kyouya on hand to temper his spending, and the eye the rest of us had for things that were pleasing to the eye and appeared more expensive than they were, we did well. Then there was food, an almost unimaginable amount of it, but Tamaki insisted we feed our guests and customers well- though the rest of us were still in doubt that we'd get any. We brought table linen and candles and their holders, we got material to be sewn into cushion covers, and wood to replace several chair legs that needed a last-minute replacement. The suits were due to be ready, when Tamaki bedazzled the owners, just two days after we ordered them, and we spent that time on final preparations. The floors were swept and mopped, the silver buffed and the mirrors and windows cleaned. Hikaru and I admittedly grew tired and irritable, trying to sew covers to make our old cushions look new and attractive; but not so irritable as Kyouya who, on discovering that no maid nor cook had been hired, tried to find one and failed.

"We will simply have to do it ourselves." He fumed in the end. "We will have to rotate between the kitchen and this _ludicrous _notion Tamaki has of 'mingling' those we are serving." He muttered something about not having come to be a butler and then descended, as he was wont to do, into a tirade of quiet angry Spanish. We understood enough, by this time, to know seventeen of his favourite curses and insults.

And, as the rest of us spent the two days cleaning and preparing and trying not to draw Kyouya's attention, Tamaki spent most of his time all but chained to his instrument. We often mockingly referred to it as 'Tamaki's beloved', but admittedly the harpsichord was a thing of beauty. He had long since tamed it, and could coax out the most wonderful sounds, that could manipulate a person's emotions as well as the brain could the body. Already, the sounds that drifted through the window had enticed people and drawn attention to us, the sounds attracting rich and poor alike to the sound like moths to a candle flame. They wanted to know who we were and what our business was, and we told them we were the Curiosity Shop. They wished to come and patronise us, and we were surprised.

We should have known, really. Tamaki was the sort who, like the candle flame, drew people to him. After all, hadn't Hikaru and I already been caught?

On the third morning, Tamaki went to pick up the suits; but he did not show us. We merely did final pieces of cleaning, readied the food for cooking, and then we bathed. It really was good soap, the best. My brother and I had washed with everything from the best soap to the dirty canal water, and often we had not washed at all. We had experienced cleanliness at all levels, but nothing like that for a long time. I saw, at one point, my reflection in the water. I had forgotten how red my hair could be; and for Hikaru, Hani and Tamaki also, their hair seemed almost glaringly bright. We prepared ourselves, thoroughly clean, clean shaven, even, for Hikaru and I, an impromptu haircut. We had hardly been able to afford a barber.

When I changed into the suit, with the deep green cravat (tied, on Tamaki's insistence, in a traditional mail coach style), I felt almost a new person. The sun was beginning to set outside, and the orange light was flooding through the house, bouncing off Kyouya's mirrors. We looked stunning. Almost unrecognisable.

From that moment, the magic had us entirely, and there could be no doubting that the scheme could work now. We would make it so.

Then Tamaki unveiled his plan for our grand opening. He suggested that, for the first time, we did not charge. If people wished to donate, they could; and if they could not, then we would not ask them to. Kyouya readjusted the glasses, which had yet to grow accustomed to wearing all the time.

"Tamaki, we will just get the poor in here for the occasion of a free meal. They will not be able to become our customers."

"Precisely." He smiled. "So let them come! For one night only, let them open the door and find a world of spectacle and grandeur! For this one night, let them share the magic and take it away! We can make money later, but let us give the magic first."

Kyouya smirked and nodded. We opened the doors.

What followed was a night I will not forget. True, there were the expected problems, when we had not timed our rotation precisely enough and food burnt, or when Tamaki leant forward and managed to set one of the handkerchiefs on fire. In the early hours of the morning, when we closed, he merely laughed and said he would keep it as a source of trivia and conversation. We ate well that night, and talked with people from all walks of life, from those travelling from the high tables of Paris to a man and woman trailing a large family, the mother who cried at the food and setting before them. Tamaki played the harpsichord, and as the hour grew later, the moonlight and stars came in a reflected from the mirrors alongside the candlelight, making it look as if diamonds had been strewn over the floors of the salon.

There was no doubt about it. The Curiosity Shop was a success. The only question was if it could last, or if we were a novelty enough when we were free, but no use when you had been before or were asked to pay. The night before people had been generous enough, when they had not been prompted, and we had raised enough to entirely pay off the food bill. However, when asked, people's fingers tended to tighten around their purses.

There was worry, the next day, but as Tamaki went for his usual 'perambulations', which we later been discovered had been to the purpose of getting us known around the city, he said we were the talk of the town.

We were. The proof came with the queue from our door at sundown. It stretched all the way around the square. We jumped around in ecstasy, whooping like children, and then composed ourselves and opened the door with a mysterious and dignified air.

Our popularity was sustainable. Perhaps it was because every night we spoke of something different to our guests, offered a different food, in a different atmosphere at the songs Tamaki drew from the harpsichord. By now we had shortened it's name to Belle. There was never a boring night at the Curiosity Shop as guests came from far and wide to gawp at us, and we got to gawp at them. We were soon in profit, and plenty of it. Eventually, too much of it.

We passed that critical point, and came to be in too much wealth so that we could not keep up with demand, with another arrival; and solved the problem with the fourth arrival to the shop. But, as Haruhi came a little later, let's begin with the arrival that came down the canal at the back of the house on day for Tamaki in a large crate, so heavy it almost sank the barge beneath it.

The piano had arrived.

To me, it just looked like an elongated harpsichord; but no, this was the latest thing, an instrument barely twenty years old and far from widespread. The _clavicembalo_ _col piano e forte_- literally named the harpsichord with quiet and loud- had arrived. And Tamaki adored it. It did sound wonderful, unbelievably so; but first we had to manoeuvre it into the house, and that took the six of us, and six hours. At last it was in place, but our job was not done. We had to remove Belle to one of the upper rooms, and with no chance of being even to get the lighter instrument up the stairs, we wheeled her out the back and then rigged up a harness and pulley to one of the upper windows. In an unfortunate accident, when one of the ropes snapped, the harpsichord tumbled away and was committed to a watery grave. Tamaki was very upset, and named the piano 'Caro' in memory.

With the arrival of Caro and Tamaki's quick mastery of the methods and techniques, we grew more popular than ever, and could not tell if more came for the company or the divine sound. Eventually, however, we reached the point where we had to turn people away. There was, simply, not enough of us to go around; particularly when Hikaru and I were requested as a pair and someone had to be in the kitchen at all the times. It was Kyouya that suggested it, as we reached mid-winter. He said, in no uncertain terms, that we had to hire a cook.

Tamaki was reluctant, at first. He had always been insecure about the bonds that held us all together, I think he dreaded change in our 'family'. But even he could not deny that we were spread too thin, and after almost a week of badgering from all sides consented to consider some hopefuls.

As you might imagine, we got a mix of undesirable characters; those seeking fame or that fancied themselves handsome, women with lustful eyes. Men with lustful eyes, to that count. None of them were suitable, but we were desperate, and may have been prevailed upon had she not then arrived. A short woman, wrapped in a winter travelling cloak against the bitter winds that had by now closed over the city. Her gloves were simple, her stride purposeful, the hood, though pulled up, unable to hide intelligent eyes, and I think we could tell from the moment she arrived that she was the most likely candidate so far.

"Good morning," she said, walking in one day as we were sweeping in the salon. "I hear you are looking for a cook?"

Tamaki was immediately upon her. "You heard correctly, miss. May I take your cloak, and I'll show you through?"

"I would rather keep it, if you please." She replied, firmly. Tamaki blinked, but did not ask.

"Then would you instead give me your name?"

"It's Haruhi Fujioka."

And, just like that, Haruhi Fujioka had arrived. She had to be interviewed, of course, but she seemed reliable enough. She had no family, no husband and no parents, she said, and had worked as a cook before. There was just one thing that had made us all curious, and in the end, Tamaki asked her why she would not lower her hood.

"I will, if you wish me to." She answered, calmly. "I just did not wish to on my first entrance. It tends to alarm people."

With no further ceremony, she lowered the hood. Her face was thrown into sharp relief, and there was dignity and beauty in it. But her hair. Oh, her hair.

There wasn't much of it, what there was stuck out at peculiar angles, long in some places and cropped almost to the scalp in others. It was a nice, deep brown, but a true and horrific mess.

She sighed at our faces. "Please, gentleman, if there is a comment about my not being a real woman without proper hair, can we save it? I merely wish to know if I have a job."

"I feel there is a story here." Tamaki said, gravely. He, then, assumed this woman had once had beautiful hair. "May I ask what happened?"

"The rent must be paid." She informed us, a little stiff but perfectly composed. "It is very hard for a woman to get work in this city, Mr Suoh, and when I found myself without it, I'm afraid it very much came down to selling either my body to men's pleasures or my hair for their wigs. Clearly, despite the barber being more a butcher in his hurry…" Here she rubbed her head slightly ruefully. "I believe I made the better choice, don't you?"

Our leader, moral opponent to vice and poverty of all description, smiled. "Call me Tamaki, please. We all live and work together, so we are on a first name basis."

Haruhi smiled too. "Thank you. You needn't worry, I shall remain hidden in the kitchen until I am worthy to be seen by human eyes again."

"Nonsense." There was something else in Tamaki's eyes then, I realised, something that I hadn't noticed before. Thankfully, his plan was very quickly unveiled. "These twins, here, happen to be very talented in this area. They'll sort your hair out quite easily."

"It will still be short," she said, sounding almost amused. "Whatever they do to it. And are you not of the opinion that I cannot be a real woman without my hair?"

"As it happens, I am not." Tamaki teased back. "Still… if you cannot be a woman, you had better be a man."

A seventh suit was ordered.

How can I summarise the following months for you? Haruhi joined us, and cooked until there was no more food to come, then came up and sat and talked with the guests just as the rest of us did, and none of the customers suspected. Apart from that, the time was passed in much the same way as I've spent some time explaining to you already. And yet, everything changed. The house felt different, before there had been belonging and now there was home, before there had been friends, and by the time the ice thawed again there was family. We guarded our little world jealously, and lived happily, the only thing close to an uncertainty in our lives, in those days, was if Tamaki and Haruhi would ever admit their feelings for one another. Tamaki clearly loved her, and at first it seemed a lost cause, but as we came to know Haruhi better, we saw her closely guarded and denied feelings appearing too. It was a match waiting to happen, we were sure, it was almost inevitable; and with their eventual union, we were sure, we would be set.

But then there was another arrival. This time, it came in the form of two policemen on the doorstep of the Curiosity Shop.

By this point, my brother and I had been with the others for almost a year. That may not sound like a long time, but it had been long enough to forget the life we had lived before. As Haruhi had once observed, the rent had to be paid, and food had to be found. By any means necessary. And, on that day, the law had caught up with us.

As soon as Hikaru saw them crossing the square, he had called to me, and we had run to the room we had shared, grabbing essentials. We would leave the fancy suits, we would leave the fine gifts given to us by customers. Just travelling clothes, a little money, there was no time. Tamaki was already talking to the officers on the steps, the others had already gravitated to our room to see what the racket was about. There was no time for explanations or goodbyes. But then Tamaki came to our doorway.

"It's alright." He said, kindly. "They're gone, for now… but they won't stay convinced for long."

I couldn't look him, any of them, in the eye. Shame was coursing through me. "I'm sorry. We'll be gone by morning."

"Gone?" Haruhi said, startled.

"Don't go!" Hani said, horrified.

Tamaki smiled slightly. "Well, that's certainly a nice reaction if ever there was one. So tell me, Kaoru, Hikaru, have you stolen anything since you've been working here?"

"Why would we?!" Hikaru snapped. "We didn't need anything else to _survive_!"

Tamaki's smiled broadened. "Then that's good enough for me. It might not be for the authorities, though." He turned to face the others. "Gentleman- and, of course, Haruhi- I humbly request a change in location!"

And so, with our having no say in it, they were coming with us. There was a lot to be done. Things had to be packed, and transported as the shop shut. More importantly, we had to decide where we were going. A map was duly unrolled over one of the tables in the Salon.

"England!" Tamaki proposed, enthusiastically. "The only place for travellers! From the rich to those on the run- and we, you'll find my friends, are currently both- England welcomes with open arms! There is no place better for us to find our fortunes by selling Curiosities!"

"England, then." Hikaru said, stony faced. "But we're going alone."

"Yes," I agreed, nodding. At this point, we still thought we could argue with them. "We couldn't ask you to come with us."

"I don't think you were asking to begin with." Haruhi pointed out, calmly.

"You're not coming!" Hikaru insisted.

"We appreciate your help, but what if we got caught?!" I tried, desperately. I don't think I could bear them getting into trouble on our behalf. Not after the kindness we had been shown. I almost couldn't bear the thought of leaving them behind, either. That was the lesser of two evils.

Yet, it was the greater, in the heart of Tamaki. And the mind of Kyouya. And between them, the rhetoric was just too convincing.

"Hmm, at this stage, we'd be more likely to be caught staying here." Kyouya pointed out, calmly. "After all, Tamaki has just obstructed the law and, since by your own admission in inference if not in words you _have _stolen in the past, we are now knowingly housing criminals and assisting their escape. We're accomplices now." He gave a vampiric smile. "Still, no matter. A change of scene was called for, people here will grow tired of us eventually. And these canals _stink_."

"So that's your motive…?" Hikaru and I muttered.

"No, that's not it." Tamaki entreated earnestly, looking at us with eyes that held absolute sincerity. "It's just… there are mistakes in all our pasts, what matters now is making up for them; and that is done better in doing good than in swinging by the neck!"

"We're not doing much to help humankind here, you know."

"He was talking about the rest of us." Haruhi commented quietly.

"We're coming with you." Hani said, stubbornly. "We're family now, right?!"

Mori inclined his head in agreement, with a look that spoke so many words. I don't know about Hikaru, but I was, by this point, wavering. Kyouya had a point, and the devotion and loyalty of the others would have been so easy to give in to, to accept without regard for the consequences…

It was Tamaki who delivered the finishing blow.

"We do not judge men by the wrongdoings of the past." He said, unusually calm. "We judge by their potential for the future."

Hikaru snorted. "Honestly, have we shown any signs of potential _yet_?"

"You have yet to be given the opportunity!" Tamaki said, cheerily. "Besides, isn't the potential for potential still potential in it's own right?"

"As usual," Kyouya seemed almost amused. "His logic is infallible. His coherency, on the other hand…"

"Ah, then it's settled!" Tamaki declared. "England it is!"

The fact that this was not what we had been discussing did not seem to deter him in the slightest. Perhaps it would seem he just wanted to go to England. Well, perhaps. But I doubt that. I think, again, he responded to the needs he saw around him.

"Perhaps if we head North and into Switzerland," He began, pointing on the map.

"Eh, Tama…" Honey began. "I don't think Switzerland is a good idea."

"Alright," Tamaki remained unphased. "Through Austria, then-"

Mori cleared him throat suggestively.

"And… into Germany?" Tamaki finished uncertainly.

"No!" Haruhi said, suddenly urgent. "Not Germany!"

We all stared. She looked away embarrassedly.

"In that case," Tamaki said, eventually. "If we sail into Spain-"

"No." Kyouya said, coldly. No room for arguments there. "The simplest route would be across France, and to gain passage from there."

"Ah… no, not France…" Tamaki said, running out of steam, now.

"Perhaps," Haruhi observed, dryly, "It would be better just to ask what countries we _can _go into."

I was beginning to learn something about my companions. Essentially, the new knowledge that I really knew nothing at all about them.

And yet, that didn't bother me too much. In some ways, it was a relief.

"We shall have to sail the whole way." Haruhi observed, tracing the passage from the South, through the narrow passage of Spain and Morocco, and into the North Atlantic. "But to find a ship going that distance…"

"We need not go that far." Kyouya said. "We'll head all the way South to Sicily and find passage to Portugal; and from there we will find a ship to England."

We went. We took with us the minimal amount of things, the clothes we stood in, our suits, a few personal effects. We would have to replace all the things for the shop on reaching England. Kyouya quietly gathered up the fine furniture and the silver, and sold as much as he could. What he did with the rest, we never discovered. Rumour had it he went to the slums and distributed like a six-week late Saint Nicholas. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he was destroying the evidence.

Caro was played a final time, and left, a relic to sit and gather dust.

We took our first boat out of Venice, down the river, and back onto dry land. Then we walked, stopping some nights at inns where we worked for our beds or a little extra money, or we slept under the stars. The nights were getting lighter, and warmer. Something else was burning brighter in those nights, too. I don't think Tamaki and Haruhi realised they weren't the only ones that could not sleep. But I didn't want to intrude, and I tried not to listen as I lay a few metres away, and they, hidden by tufts of grass that seem so tall when you are lying down, talked quietly together. It made me smile that time, watching their affections grow as surely as the plants that surrounded us, and yet, their apparent oblivion to it. We all hoped, I think, that they would be married sometime. But how dreadful the day would be when it came.

Some days, we were lucky, and were able to find a cart to carry us part of the way, or a band of travellers to join. We followed the coast to begin with, and then changed track, and had come as far as Florence where we met a jolly band of people on a journey to the Vatican. They were one of many different sets of people we met on the way, and yet they stayed with me. For people heading to the holy city in the hope of gaining a pardon, they were very cheerful.

"The truth is," one, an old man named Jessu, who it was very hard to believe had ever done anything wrong in his life, confided to me when we had gone with them for three days and were spending the night in a tavern as summer rains fell outside, "It is the promise of salvation that elates us. Whatever we've done in the past, the passage to the future is free and open."

I stared at him, but he misunderstood why.

"Don't look so alarmed, my friend, I may share sympathies with the Protestants but I'm too old to change my ways now, particularly in such a place as this. Yet you, you go to England! Are you seeking the freedoms brought all that time ago by the Reformation?"

"Eh… nothing like that…" I mumbled.

He laughed jovially. "Well, perhaps you ought to seek a pardon to! Whatever burden you're carrying, perhaps you'd be better off without it. Your companions, too."

"What makes you say that?" I enquired.

"Well, him, for example…" Jessu gestured at Tamaki, who was waving his arms around emphatically as he explained something to Haruhi, who was attempting to seem interested. "He is _clearly _having lustful thoughts about that woman!"

Many different things conflicted within me then. One was the impulse to laugh, and I bowed to it, to give me time to consider the other things; for example, if Jessu was _right_. For another thing, he had realised Haruhi's gender. Now I looked, in her time at the Shop and on the road since, her hair was getting longer. Even so, it wasn't that long, and she had yet to discard her male dress. Jessu could somehow tell what I was thinking.

"Don't look so shocked, lad, you can tell a lot more about people if you try to look beyond their worldly possessions. And speaking of possessions…" He tapped something beneath the bench with his foot. "I think this is yours, is it not?"

I leant over to see what it was. It turned out to be Hikaru.

Neither of us could carry ale, but Hikaru would insist on _trying_.

That was really the precedent of our journey. At the gates of Rome, we parted ways with the pilgrims, and continued on. Things changed little on that journey, we talked more. Never about our pasts, naturally. Always about the future. Two months after we had left Venice, the Curiosity Shop seemed very far away. But then, so did England, and without the forgiving and endless oceans, there would be no escape for us. Sometimes it had felt, as we went the length of Italy, that we could never stop. We could not afford to wait a day, even when Hani got sick and collapsed in the middle of a corn field. Thankfully, the fever was mild, and by the next day he was walking again and a week later was quite recovered. He was strong, that one. And so, after two months had elapsed, we found ourselves in Sicily, looking for a ship bound for Portugal.

Within an hour, we found one, one looking for a few extra hands. We found passage, free passage, with hardly any effort, as if it had been placed there for us. Perhaps Jessu's prayers had done the trick.

At any rate, for me, those weeks on board the ship were, in all honesty, boring. At first, the novelty of the endless ocean amused Hikaru and I, because the only boats we had travelled in had been the Venice gondolas. We soon found, however, that the land suited us more; it varied more, there was more to see and new people to meet around every corner. At sea, the clear water proved just a little too good for reflection, and thought.

"Really?" Haruhi blinked, when we said this. "That's why I like it."

I didn't quite know what to say to that, and apparently Hikaru didn't either, because he caught hold of one of the strands of her hair that was blowing in the wind, that seemed to grow so much thicker and faster then ours, and commented critically:

"It's getting way long. Have we ever even cut it since that first time?"

"I don't think so…"

"It is a shame, though." I sighed, wistfully. "You are a far prettier woman than a man."

"You're right, Kaoru." Tamaki confirmed, and we turned to see the others arriving on deck. "I should leave it long." He took a strand himself, curling it in his fingers. "We've just spoken to the captain, and we're due to arrive in Portugal by sunset tomorrow. Perhaps when we are back on dry land, it is time for Haruhi to reclaim her womanhood?"

Hikaru and I exchanged glances over Haruhi's head. If he was no longer making decisions in reference to how she would do best in the Shop, nor how best to fit her situation so she would stay…

It was an interesting development, not in the least because Haruhi agreed to it. In fact, it was really the only interesting development. Very little else had time to happen, as Tamaki and, surprisingly, Haruhi, endeavoured to teach us English, and it must be said, succeeded to great extent.

And, one night, when they stood out of deck together beneath the stars and admiring the waves, Tamaki kissed Haruhi for the first time. This did not please Hikaru, who wanted to go for a walk about the boat, but couldn't with them in the way.

Portugal was another matter. We had more difficulty gaining passage here. Not because there was a shortage of ships to England, but because, ironically, of Haruhi. Turned out many of the British were still superstitious and the 'bad luck' of having a woman on board turned them away even from Kyouya's surprisingly generous offers of payment. Eventually, we found passage onboard a ship of Portuguese origin instead, going to trade oranges. England, it seemed, could grow nothing of the sort. What a joke of a country.

And yet, we landed, on the coast of a place called Cornwall. Though we were surrounded by beautiful countryside- greens of shades that even in the hills of Rome we hadn't seen- we had to move inland, as all people did. To the multicultural, heaving centre of this place, that welcomed waifs and strays from all corners of the world- London.

What a place it was. Cramped, heaving, sweaty, smelly; and yet… there was something in the air in that place, some optimism of unidentifiable source. Perhaps because they had just learnt to live with the constant drizzle, but the place seemed to just buzz happily to itself. Perhaps it was just the happiness that comes hand in hand with the ignorance to the problems that went as deep as the city's foundations. But, as Tamaki said, what was wrong with that?

Certainly, the atmosphere was electric. Our surroundings were not as opulent as Venice, to be certain, but those were days of happiness for us. We found a new house, with a large ground floor, and re-established ourselves, reopened the Curiosity Shop. We regained wealth enough to live comfortably, a new piano (this one christened simply 'Jessu', in memory of a certain pilgrim) was procured, and we began again. This time, things were slightly different, not least because Haruhi did little more than cook and serve, and mingle in the guests in a new role as a hostess, but never to sit at the same table. The very way our service was utilised seemed to have been adapted to a new function, too. Oh, people still came out of curiosity, but as our popularity grew, attendance became seen as a status symbol and exclusive. I think people came more to be seen by others than to see us. Somehow, that made the whole thing more relaxed. It quickly became clear that the English were not the strict and stiff race it was often attributed to them. Well, of course they were all _respectable_, but beneath it all was a love of glamour and gossip that was carefully unleashed in places, and in ways, where it could be denied later. Kyouya jokingly remarked that, should we ever sell all the surprising things we heard, we could make our fortunes in blackmail or else bring the city of London to it's knees.

At least, we chose to believe he was joking. Whatever his real feelings, however, we all remained the very essence of discretion.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said in reverse. It seemed you could not be a group of escaped foreigners without there being rumours of you being escaped foreigners. Not that it ever did our popularity an ounce of harm. As Tamaki pointed out, the British loved scandal and would protect it fiercely. "Scandal is spice!" he used to laugh, when we heard another rumour of how Mori was really a mute because his tongue had been cut out by Persians when he ran off with a tribal chief's daughter. So we let them have their rumours, at first. Then things turned a little nastier.

They might have loved scandal, I'd even go so far as to say that scandal was accepted, as long as you put out the show of being scrupulously respectable yourself and unforgiving of scandal in others. In this case, the target was Haruhi. Things started to circulate about her, nasty things, questioning her honour and so on; and nor could we work out where the vicious lies were stemming from, at first.

Then we heard Lord Colchester, a regular customer along with his wife, remarking very loudly to a local newspaper editor: "Shameless, absolutely _shameless_, an unmarried woman living with all these men! Well, it's as I've said from the very beginning, you can only _imagine _what kind of things the harlot gets up to…"

Tamaki very quietly remarked no-one had forced him to come, no-one cared for his opinion, and very quietly asked him to leave. That was the last we saw of Lord Colchester alive. We weren't much concerned when he never came back, more with the dark and brooding behaviour of Tamaki. He seemed completely different, completely outside himself, barely spoke to us and rarely so much as looked in Haruhi's direction, as if a glance would somehow corrupt her, or make the vicious lies true. I saw the quiet despair in her eyes. So she _had _noticed, after all, how he normally could not take his eyes off her.

Tamaki began to disappear after that. We did not know where to. He would simply eat breakfast with us, go out, and reappear just in time to open Shop with us. This happened for two consecutive weeks. On seven separate days, he did not even return in time for the Shop; and he would not tell us where he was going or what he was doing.

The moment Tamaki came back, mentally speaking, we knew it. He came through the door as we were laying out table clothes in preparation for opening, and his smile and his light were back. He bounded in, cheerful, and yet… I wondered if it was just me. Perhaps I was imagining it, but I was sure I detected an edge of nerves at the edge of his manner. Something, still, not quite right.

"You seem happy this evening." I ventured, cautiously.

"I am," He said, strolling in. "Because all is finished. Well, no, all is _prepared_. Ready for the finish. The beginning. No, I'm not, it's not happiness, it's more happiness at the _prospect _of happiness; though perhaps that is happiness in itself?"

"What are you talking about?" Kyouya asked, flatly. "We don't have time for this. We've been hard-pushed enough to get everything done while you've been off _gallivanting _anyway."

"Then I shall come straight to the point!" Tamaki declared, strode across the room, clasped Haruhi's hand, and got down on one knee.

As you might imagine, she said yes.

It turned out he had got himself a job in the day time, finding odd errand to run for anyone who would pay, to raise the funds to get her a ring.

We were happy for them. What could we do but laugh and congratulate them as Tamaki took her hands and dragged her, protesting, around the room until her elation finally escaped and they leaped together, laughing, pausing only to embrace and kiss without a hint of embarrassment or shame. We were so caught up in all this that we almost did not notice the next arrival, standing in the doorway, until one of the three officers cleared his throat. We turned to the door in synchrony.

The law had come again, and this arrival was even worse than the last. They had not come for Hikaru and I. They had come for Tamaki.

Lord Colchester had been found dead, murdered. The case of Tamaki throwing him out had been well circulated by now, and when it emerged that none of us were able to provide adequate explanation of where he had been and what he had been doing for the past few days, the situation was worse. They took him away.

Haruhi was adamant that she was not concerned. He was, she said, innocent; and that would be proved.

Yet, a week later, when it came to trial, she was proved wrong.

Not that he was guilty. I was, and remain, entirely convinced of his innocence.

Unfortunately, the trial was not so much. We had no alibi to give him. Even when Haruhi said she believed he had, as he claimed, been working to get her a ring, the ring was used as evidence. It was expensive, and when the Lord had been murdered, his money had been stolen. To them, it was evidence enough. We had long been known of a house of intoxicating scandal and sin, and he had been gone, apparently with no record of where he had been, for days. He could have been planning anything with anyone. No-one could vouch his whereabouts at the rough time the Lord had been killed. Thus…

Tamaki was taken away. We were not given chance to speak to him then. The sentence was death.

We returned to the Shop that night and did not open. People gave us a wide birth on the street anyway. Word spread fast, and as far as they were concerned, we were blood stained and filthy. They would have to find a new venue to discuss this scandal.

None of us could look at Haruhi. I don't know if she could look at us. Certainly, once we got back, she sat in one of the chairs, and looked at her ring for a long time. Then she cried, bitter, silent, stinging tears.

I never saw her like that before nor since. In the end I moved to her side and held her.

But it was not my arms she wanted.

It was customary at that time that the condemned did not go to the gallows immediately. Their souls were to be given a chance first, so there was a waiting period; at the end of which a priest would arrive to pray with them and offer absolution at the price of repentance; and, on that count, admittance of the crime. Some were more 'persuasive' about this than others. At any rate, it meant we were allowed to see him the next day. His last day, as it happened. He was due for the gallows the following dawn.

We went into the darkened cell, expecting the worst. And, indeed, the scene was pathetic, with a stone floor strewn with nothing more than straw, and him within it, leaning against the wall. His hands were shackled together, his ankles to chains that ran to the walls. And yet, and yet. He smiled when we entered. His dignity had not deserted him when all else had.

"Hello." He offered, calmly.

Kyouya shook his head, angry. "…This is a fine mess you're in this time."

He tried to shrug, casually, but I think we all saw the fear and regret he fought to keep from showing in his eyes. "Not so much. Now you're all here… I just thought, if I could know you, my friends, my family, trusted in my innocence… then nothing else mattered. And I could go peacefully, with acceptance."

He finally met our eyes, pleading. It was hard, but we all met his eye.

"We believe it, Tamaki!" Hani declared, suddenly. "We do! Really!"

"We didn't doubt it." Hikaru mumbled, looking away.

Kyouya tutted. "As if you could be capable anyway."  
We fell into silence. Haruhi was the one that broke it. "Unfortunately, the courts don't see it that way." She said, coldly. Tamaki gasped slightly.

"Please…" He said, and for the first time his voice trembled in desperation. "Please, Haruhi, don't say you believe them! Please don't say you think I did it! I know the evidence looks for all the world as if I did, but-!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" She snapped, and with the return of her voice, she seemed to find the strength to look him in the eye, and, quite suddenly, she was kneeling down and clasping his hands. "I could and would _never_ believe it!" She said, fiercely. Then her voice dropped slightly. "We can fight this. I'm sure… I'm sure…"

He pulled out of her hands and stroked her hair as best he could instead, as the rest of us looked uncomfortably away. We could not close our ears, though.

"Haruhi…" He said, quietly, voice quaking slightly even as he tried to control it. "Who would listen? As long as… you know… I don't care. I don't care. It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?" She hissed in echo. "Tamaki-"

"The priest." He said, nodding to where a man was standing in the doorway.

"I see you are surrounded by your loved ones," he said, immediately showing himself as sympathetic, and not, as we feared, merely here to condemn and scare. "That will make it easier… but still, you must confess to the wrong you have done…"

"He has done no wrong!" Haruhi barked.

"Then…" The priest seemed a little taken aback at the vehemence of this proclamation. "Well. That is not for us to decide, unfortunately." He smiled briefly at Tamaki. "Be assured, good sir, that you will be delivered to salvation if your soul is free… and, if it is not, there is still time."

"In that, you are correct." Haruhi said, thin-lipped, and her voice firm. "And you are a priest, in which case, you can perform the ceremony and marry us."

I don't think any of us, even those of us who knew Haruhi's determination and stubbornness, were expecting that. The priest seemed shocked, and uncertain, but it crumbled before her. And so they were married without a Church nor rings, kneeling on a straw strewn floor, with his wrists in shackles.

Tamaki did cry then. He wept uncontrollably, without stopping. The Priest, too, was moved to tears. He whispered blessings afterwards, and I think he knew for sure then that the condemned was not guilty.

When we were eventually made to leave, Haruhi left a married woman. She did not shed a tear that day.

The next day was harder. None of us had slept, and so we saw dawn approach. We had planned to go to the execution, to be friendly voices in the sounds of the scoffers, and to take him back afterward, for a proper burial; to save him from the dishonour of the dissecting table of some science school. But we couldn't go. We were cowards, but we could not face it. In the end, Hani, Mori and Kyouya left without us. Hikaru, Haruhi and I wandered listlessly round the house, saying little and doing nothing.

"I should have gone." Haruhi would mumble periodically. She was probably right. What comfort could we offer?

Later, Hikaru dared to ask: "What now?"

"We continue with the Shop." I said, immediately. "We continue with the Shop and prove them wrong!"

"No!" Haruhi cried. "No, Kaoru, we can't. It wouldn't be right. I just… it was _his_."

She was right, really. Although, as it turned out, she was wrong. In a way.

"Actually," Kyouya said, the three of them entering through the door in time to catch that exchange. "I think it still is. Not that I question your right to inheritance, Mrs Suoh."

We turned to look at them. They were empty-handed, and smiling grimly.

"What happened?" I asked.

Kyouya smirked. "Tamaki decided not show up."

"_What_?!"

"I think…" Hani said, smiling rather pointedly at Haruhi. "That he found something that did matter after all."

The 'something that mattered' had sat down rather suddenly in surprise. Her hands curled into balls.

"Are you trying to say he got away…?"

"Yes." Kyouya confirmed.

"How…?"

"I don't know, but rest assured they realise it was nothing to do with us. They took the liberty of posting people all around the house last night. They know we didn't leave." Kyouya did not sound too happy about this.

For my part, I could not care less about what was or was not being thought of us. Tamaki had, impossibly, gotten away. I don't even begin to guess how he did it. I suspected he had been growing a plan all along, but it had taken Haruhi's defiance and love to give him the courage to release it. Yet, what now? He would be hiding again, on the run, and would not be able to come back to us.

I realised then we would have to go to him, as he had once run with us. The others knew it too.

"What do we do?" Hani was asking Kyouya.

"I think," Kyouya replied quietly, "That the person with the right to answer that question is not me."

He looked toward Haruhi. We all did, and she looked at her hands, curled in her lap. You could almost see the thoughts running across her face.

"We must find him." She said, resolutely, in the end. "I assume you are all with me?"

"Of course."

"Good." She nodded. "But we won't be able to find him immediately- he is on the run and he will not be found. We shall have to meet him later."

"How can we?" Hikaru asked.

"We don't know where he's headed." I pointed out.

She looked up then, meeting all our eyes, her lips in a tight smile. "Yes, we do."

"Enlighten us." Kyouya said, wryly, though I think he knew what she was going to say.

"He'll go to France." Haruhi said, firmly. "He'll head back to France, to wait for us there."

There was a silence. We couldn't doubt her when she spoke that firmly. She stood.

"Kyouya, please get our affairs in order. This time, we'll leave drawing as much attention as possible to ourselves. We want people to know we are leaving to escape scandal and disgrace." She paused, thinking again. "Pack the things, all of it. What we can't ship, we'll sell. We have to make this look a legitimate business venture, after all…"

"Right." The rest of us agreed.

"Thank you…"

We jumped to. As I passed her, I touched Haruhi's shoulder. I meant to offer her comfort, but when she looked up to me the numbness had gone and the customary determination was back. She looked at me curiously.

"…Let's go get him back." I said.

She smiled. "I think that would be a good idea."

We went.

You, my friend, look at me with such expectation. Do you expect me to chronicle those days, too, as we rushed in a veritable whirlwind of activity, or the journey across the sea? Do you want to know the endless days of silent anticipation? Perhaps you are just waiting to hear of the day, three weeks after we began in France, that Tamaki walked into _Le Magasine d__'__Curiositie_, and took his wife into his arms, and all that other romantic nonsense; or perhaps the day some three months later that news of the capture of the real murderer- _Lady_ Colchester, of all people!- and Tamaki's absolution reached us. You might expect an account of the day Tamaki and Haruhi had a 'real' ceremony on the banks of the Seine, or tales of the days that followed- the success of the business, the various romances of the rest of us, and the final days when, getting too old or settled, we disbanded and left. Well, I am getting _too _old to tell such stories; have I not told enough? Let it be left there, on a happy note.

…And yet, you demand closure. Very well.

Hani, then. He and Mori were with Tamaki at the beginning, and they stayed till the day we shook hands and went our separate ways. As far as I know, they chose a more peaceful life after that; and disappeared into the Alps, for training, for mission, or simply to help the people they found along the way struggling in the adverse conditions. They were too remote to receive news often, but I believe they found happiness there.

Happiness, it must be said, seemed to find all of us eventually. Even Kyouya. In the last months of the Shop, he had become more withdrawn then ever. We thought age had simply gotten to him, that now life had settled into a more sensible routine whatever secrets lay in his past were catching up with him. Actually, that's fairly accurate. Another arrival came, for him; a Spanish woman with red hair. I've never seen him so surprised as he was that day. The rest of us were fairly surprised too, at the sheer amount of affection that he apparently could show. She joined us too, and our last activity before we went our separate ways was to see them into marriage.

Why, your eyes seem to say, did we close the Shop to begin with? Well, after some years, it was time. What can I say but that? Haruhi and Tamaki had a family of their own, even Hikaru and I were in different relationships by then. People were used to us, also, but we did not have the energy or resources to move on again. We had laid down too many roots. So we simply parted ways.

Hikaru and I came back here, to Italy, once more. There were lovers, for both of us, and jobs, and, in the end, he got married too. They had one son, my nephew, but I couldn't tell you what he was doing nowadays. He has long since gone to Rome to find his fortune, a mere phantom in the past, like the others. If you care to dwell on morbidity, Hikaru was the first of us all to die. I suppose something of the fever had stayed with him always, but he wasn't terribly young. Some fifteen years on, and news reached me that Kyouya had gone. He had apparently died in his sleep, with as little fuss and frills as usual. A few months later, Tamaki followed him, and that was a greater event- when the doors had closed on the shop, they had been opened to orphans and waifs of all kinds. Much loved and admired, his passing seemed to plunge a good portion of France into a kind of national grieving. As for Hani and Mori, I do not know. I imagine they are long since dead and gone, because, as you might be able to see, we are all ridiculously old now. As far as I am concerned, it's just Haruhi and I left now. She sends me letters from time to time, as strong as ever, still chasing her orphans and grandchildren and great-grandchildren around and forcing them through a decent upbringing whether they like it or not. I suspect death will be firmly told to wait until she's completely finished before it will take her.

Hmm. We are old, and there are so few of us left. Yet, to me… Those days return to me in my dreams. I smell again the canals of Venice, hear the songs of London or see the rooftops of Paris, and feel between my fingers the folds of the drapes, the creases of the cravat. Old conversations and old friends, old happiness and dreams and desires, old melancholy, and, always, inescapably, the old magic. It never really left us. The Shop that cast a spell over us all. Part of an old order and an old world; and I am old too. Not in my dreams, though. In my dreams the doors swing open and there we all are, young and with our lives ahead of us- all those hopes. And yet, from here, from this end of the journey… I can see those lives lived. Those hopes found, and those dreams desired, achieved, exceeded.

We did well. That's all I'm trying to say, really. In the end, we all did well.


End file.
